In Sickness and In Health
by Galaxy-Defending-Hopeful
Summary: Dougie gets sick when they guys are out in town, and Tom takes him home. What do those naughty boys do when they're left alone? 2003!fic, Floynter, fairly graphic slash (and implied Flones and Pones).


**Um yes I got ill and I felt so incredibly disgusting that I wrote this. Feel free to review! Floynter, sick!Dougie, slash slash slash!**

* * *

"I WARNED you not to eat the freaking chocolate, and what did you do? Eat the bloody chocolate!" Tom exclaimed as he ushered the youngest of his bandmates up the stairs and into the bathroom to wipe the sick from around his mouth away. They had been shopping with Fletch for stuff that their managed considered 'necessary' for the house (things such as bedsheets and pillow cases, which Tom _had _bought but they'd gone missing) when Dougie had suddenly announced that he was going to be sick. Fletch told him that he'd be fine, and Dougie was for a while, until he suddenly crumpled onto the floor in the middle of Tesco. The four had carried him to a bench outside of the shop, and while Danny, Harry and Fletch continued getting everything that was needed from that particular shop, Tom sat with Dougie, gently keeping him awake with prods and shakes interspersed with hugs and worries. When Dougie had stopped shaking and felt okay, they stood up and went to find the others – when Dougie was horribly, disgustingly sick all down himself. Tom could see undigested food from probably the last 48 hours, and he guessed that Dougie had some kind of bug.

"Dougie, I'm driving you home." Tom had quickly said, sending a short text to Fletch before ushering Dougie straight out to his car (Fletch only had a two seater, so they'd arrived separately and then met up) and setting him up in the back seat with a bottle of water from the glovebox.

* * *

"I thought it'd be okay! It was only a couple of months old!" Dougie argued as Tom pulled off his T-shirt and put it in the washbasket.

"You were given it for your sixteenth – that was six months ago!" Tom replied. He searched the cupboards for some human disinfectant, and upon finding it, scrubbed at Dougie's face. Dougie was sat on the toilet seat, weaker than he cared to admit. He'd felt funny all day, but after a good hour of walking under the bright lights, he'd felt positively tortured.

"Stop stressing, Tom. Now is not the time for a lecture." Dougie said, before suddenly groaning and doubling over. He managed to get off of the toilet just in time to be sick straight into it. Tom gently rubbed his bare back as he retched again.

"Stay here, mate. I'm going to go and sort your room out a little bit so it's not quite so...pit-like. Brush your teeth."

* * *

Open window pouring in golden light. Iced water. Sliced apple drizzled with lemon juice so that it wouldn't brown. Clean sheets. Messy stuff kicked under the bed for now. The room looked a lot more inviting when Tom lead the younger boy into it, and into bed.

"My head hurts, Tom. I feel really weird."

"I'll get you some paracetamol. Give me a sec."

Tom nipped down to the kitchen (the one place where you completely weren't meant to keep medication) and fetched a couple of tablets, allowing himself a few seconds peace away from his fevered, sick-smelling friend before going back upstairs. Dougie was looking sheepish. Tom's eyes slid down and saw the small pool of bile extending across the fresh, crisp sheet.

"I swear to God, Dougie, why did you eat the fucking chocolate?" Tom angrily asked, yanking the sheet from the bed, bundling it up and throwing it on the floor before stomping over to the wardrobe to fetch another. When there was no reply from Dougie, he looked around – Dougie was staring at him, shocked. Tom very rarely got angry.

"Sorry." Dougie managed, still wide eyed. Tom melted.

"Oh god, Doug, I shouldn't have said that..." Tom dropped the clean sheet onto the carpet and stumbled forwards, yanking Dougie into a hug. Dougie awkwardly put his arms around Tom, and after a couple of seconds relaxed into the embrace. Tom moved his face towards Dougie's, and when they were a mere couple of inches away from each other...Tom's phone began to ring.

"Shit, sorry." Tom drew back and left the room, answering the phone.

* * *

"There's been a bomb raid at the shopping centre and none of us are allowed to leave until we've had our bags and stuff checked, we won't be home for a few hours." Danny said as soon as Tom answered.

"Oh, damn – are you guys okay there?"

"Yeah, Fletch has taken us to McDonalds. How's Doug?"

"Not great. He's been sick about three times. He ate the chocolate that was going mouldy."

Danny laughed down the phone. "What a twat. I'll bring you a burger back, Tom."

"Thanks, dude. See you later."

"Bye!"

Tom put down his phone, overwhelmed with emotions. He was going to be alone in the house with a cute boy who he had almost just kissed – for several hours, at that. Smiling, he re-entered the bedroom.

* * *

The first thing Danny did when he got back was go straight to Dougie's room to check on him. Using tact that he rarely showed, he opened the door slowly and quietly just in case the younger boy was asleep. What he saw shocked him. Dougie was lying in bed. Tom was above him, kissing him with a kind of hunger he had never seen in his best friend, pinning his hands down. Tom's shirt was missing, revealing his smooth, pale chest dotted with hair just a shade darker than the hair on his head, while Dougie was apparently completely naked and lying on the duvet, his penis erect. Tom leant down a little, rubbing his jeans against Dougie's cock, making a groan come from their connected mouths. Danny's eyes grew wide as he stared at the two writhing against each other, but he made no noise. He was rooted to the spot, and slightly turned on. Tom pushed his own jeans down, rolling onto his back and pulling Dougie on top of him, pushing his hand down to the other boy's penis and working it, thrusting.

"Fuck..." Dougie mumbled. He grabbed Tom's shoulder and pulled Tom closer to him, so that the older boy's head was resting in the crook of his shoulder as he continued giving him a handjob. After a couple of long minutes, Danny began to palm his crotch, aware of his own boner. Suddenly, Dougie came, gasping for air. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly at Danny.

Needless to say, dinner that night was awkward.


End file.
